Every Cell
by kate657
Summary: "Every single cell of my body loves you," she had told him. Well, every cell of his body still loved her.
1. Chapter 1

**Every Cell**

Summary: _"Every single cell of my body loves you," she had told him. _Well, every cell of his body still loved her.

CHAPTER ONE

She didn't know why but she followed him. Her feet were carrying her out the door, around and out to the alley before she even fully processed that he had run away.

And he was fast. He was moving faster than she thought was actually possible but she could still make him out as his blurry silhouette hurried away, almost turning the corner to get away from her and she knew if that happened she would never get the answers she wanted. So she called out.

"Hey!"

Jace froze at the word.

He didn't think. Why didn't he ever think? He could still make it out of there. He could still get away before this situation got out even more out of hand than it already was.

He told himself it was the best thing for her, for everyone, really, but especially her. The Angels had been clear. Any interference in their punishment could make things worse for her. So, as much as it killed him, he took a deep breath and started to make a move to walk away.

"Hey, I'm talking to you!" Her voice rang out from behind him again. She sounded desperate and he could hear the underlying confusion in her voice. It called out to him so he did the only thing he could possibly do.

He turned around to face her again.

She caught up to him quickly and closed most of the distance between them.

"You can really see me?" He asked her. It was obvious that she could. She was looking right at him, and had followed him out there. But he was still in a state of shocked disbelief that this was actually happening.

Nervous laughter bubbled out of her before she could stop it as she looked up at him. "Why do you keep asking me that?" She wondered, tilting her head inquiringly. "Of course I can see you."

He didn't answer. He just kept watching her, entranced. She was beautiful. Her red hair had grown out, bangs taking up most of the space on her forehead. Her makeup was different but she still looked absolutely stunning. He could see a million questions swirling in her eyes. And, damn him but he wanted to answer every single one.

"Don't I know you from somewhere?"

He stiffened again and she could tell she was making him nervous.

"We've met before, haven't we?" She prodded.

"No." He answered quickly, his voice hoarse and his eyes swirling with some indefinable emotion. She didn't know why or how but she knew he was lying. "I don't think so."

"Yes, we have," she insisted, nodding her head. Anguish flashed across his face so quickly that she was sure if she hadn't been so close to him, she would never have noticed. "I know that I know you."

He took a deep breath. "You've mistaken me for someone else then. It happens a lot," he said quietly.

"Please don't lie to me," she said, looking at him pleadingly. He swallowed convulsively, shaking his head urgently. "Please, _Jace_."She had no idea where the name came from but her mouth formed it automatically.

His beautiful eyes widened, snapping up to stare at her in shock. "What did you say?" He asked, his breathing increasing.

It was his name! She knew she had been right. "I said your name," she answered, her heart pounding in her ears. "You're Jace, right?"

"Yeah," he said softly, his mouth curving into a hopeful smile that lit up his face. "Yeah, I'm Jace."

She smiled back at him excitedly. "I'm Clary," she said, extending her hand out to him like a lifeline. He reached out and grabbed on for dear life.

Clary shook his hand, her heart beating so fast it would surely burst right out of her chest. She looked him over from head to toe, everything about him so eerily familiar.

As her surveying gaze swept over him, he felt a rush of warmth wash over him. He was so happy to be with her again, drinking in her presence. Then suddenly her gaze stopped and her eyes widened a fraction. She reached out slowly with her other hand, slow enough that he could have easily stopped her but he didn't dare. Her hand brushed the side of his neck, moving the collar of his shirt lower.

"What are these tattoos on your neck?" Clary asked, touching the unfamiliar black shape. It was beautiful. And familiar.

Jace reached up and flattened her hand against the tattoo, inhaling deeply. "They're not tattoos," he said finally, looking at her with an intensity he knew she didn't quite understand. Yet. "They're runes."

_To Hell_ _with_ _the Angels_. This was the woman he loved. Clary was the one for him and he would not lose her again.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Jace watched her eyes narrow slightly at him in curiosity. He could have sworn it was almost as if it was familiar to her.

"Runes," she repeated softly, drawing out the word slowly. Her nose crinkled adorably in confusion. "What is a rune?"

Jace hesitated, knowing he was being selfish but knew that he didn't really care and also realising that an alley on a random New York City street was not the place to have this conversation. There was no way he could take her to the Institute though.

"Jace?" Clary's voice shook him out of his thoughts. "Are you okay? You're breathing very fast."

His gaze shifted to her, the foggy faraway haze starting to clear. "I'm okay," he finally said, looking around the alley. "I just…" His gaze shifted around their surroundings again.

"What?" Clary asked, wondering what was going on in his head.

"Do you trust me?" The question was so unexpected that she took an unconscious step away from him, not realising that the ground was still slick from the rain that had happened earlier that day.

Her right foot faltered, turning on it's side and she thought she was going to fall until a pair of strong arms grabbed a hold of her, pulling her up straight. She looked up as Jace corrected her. His eyes were full of concern. "Whoa, be careful."

"_Yes_," she whispered without any conscious thought. "Yes, I trust you."

"I know you have questions," he finally said.

A small bubble of laughter escaped her lips as Clary looked back at him. "Only about a million of them," she clarified.

He laughed slightly and it made her smile reappear. "And I want to answer them."

"But?" Clary prompted, knowing there was more he wanted to say even though he remained silent.

"But," he said, looking at their surroundings pointedly. "Not here, in an alley. This isn't the place for this conversation."

She understood now why he asked if she trusted him. She knew it was crazy since they had just met despite the fact that he was very familiar to her. She felt like she had known him for a while and that they were close but they were actually strangers.

"Could we go to your place?" He asked nervously, unfamiliar with the feeling. He never got nervous with women, never caring enough to care what they really felt towards him.

But Clary was different. Clary had made him second guess everything. She was the only woman that ever made him nervous.

"Well, my apartment is just a few blocks that way," Clary answered, pointing in the general direction of her apartment building. "We could just catch the subway over there."

"Do you have a roommate?" Jace asked, not wanting to go there if there was a chance they could be overheard.

He didn't need want to introduce another mundane into the Shadow World, and he really didn't feel like explaining why he wasn't crazy to _two_ people instead of just Clary.

"No," Clary shook her head. "I live alone."

"Really?" Jace's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"I can take care of myself," Clary said. She was used to people questioning the wisdom of her living alone at her age in Brooklyn.

But Jace didn't argue with her. He actually smiled in response. "I know."

Then, he came over and offered her his jacket. "Let's go," he said, gesturing with his hand for her to lead the way to her apartment.

Clary opened the door, pulled off Jace's jacket but rather than handing it back to him, she hung it over the chair that stood by the desk in the living room of her small apartment.

"Nice," Jace said, looking around, impressed. He knew Clary's art was good but it must be more profitable than he was aware of, but then again, art was not one of his biggest areas of interest. Most of what he knew was from Clary.

He hadn't always understood what she was talking about, but he paid attention. Talking about art had always excited her. And when Clary was excited, she lit up. She was beautiful. She had brought the same enthusiasm for art to her training as a Shadowhunter and that was, in his opinion, what made her such a great warrior.

"Thank you." Clary said simply. She sat down on the couch and offered Jace a choice of a seat on the couch beside her or the chair opposite her.

He chose neither. Jace sat down in the chair to her right, and pulled it closer.

"So, what are runes?" Clary asked, looking at him seriously.

He inhaled deeply. "Runes are Marks." He answered simply, his breathing evening out. "They contain a lot of power. They help people like us."

"Us?" Clary repeated, looking at him in confusion.

"Shadowhunters," Jace replied, biting his lip. "People like me." Then he glanced at her and fear flashed in his eyes as he added, "And you."

"Me?" Clary parroted incredulously. She shook her head in denial. "I'm not a Shadowhunter."

"Yes, you are," Jace insisted adamantly. "You just don't remember being one."

"No," Clary denied yet again. "I don't even know what a Shadowhunter _is_."

"Shadowhunters are Nephilim, and we protect the human world from the Shadow World." Jace said, reaching for her hand, needing to feel their connection to get through this. "We're half-humans, half-angels. That's how I can bare all the Runes I have. A Marked mundane would most likely die instantly, or sometimes lose their mind and then die."

"Mundane?" Clary repeated.

"It's a term we use to describe humans." Jace answered, releasing her hand and standing up. "We fight demons mostly but sometimes, we have to -"

"Stop! Stop it!" Clary cut him off, holding her head as if it were about to explode. "First, angels are _real_. Now, you're talking about _demons_ like _they're_ real."

"That's because they are," Jace said hotly, knowing he was beginning to lose ground. If he didn't make her take him seriously, he would probably lose her for good. "All the legends are _real_. They're all _true_."

Clary shook her head disbelievingly at him. "I know it all sounds crazy," Jace said, taking a breath.

_Sounds?_ She stared at him, completely baffled. "That's because it _is_ crazy," she shot back, "All of it."

"I understand why you think that," Jace said, giving her a minute to process everything. "It's only because you don't remember."

"Remember what?" Clary asked, her green eyes full of confusion.

"You don't remember being a Shadowhunter or anything about the Shadow World."

"I think I would remember something like that," Clary snapped at him, frustration curling off her like smoke. "I'm not surprised that I don't remember something that never happened."

Jace seemed to deflate at her words. "I thought you would believe me," he said, looking at her pleadingly. "You knew my name. How do you explain that, Clary?"

Clary's gaze rose to meet his. "I can't explain it, Jace," she admitted, trying to wrack her brain to come up with an explanation. "I just felt like I knew you from somewhere, like we had met before."

Hope rose in his chest. She hadn't completely shut him out. "That's because we have met before," he said, reaching for her hand. She stiffened slightly momentarily. "We met on your eighteenth birthday, Clary."

Her eyes widened impossibly. "What are you talking about?" she asked, feeling her throat close up. "That's impossible. That's more than a year gap in my life."

"I know and I can help fill in your missing memories," Jace explained softly.

"But I don't have missing memories," Clary insisted, knowing that there was no way she could have gotten to where she was in her life without realising that there were gaps in her memory.

"You only think you don't," Jace told her, tightening his grip on her hand in sympathy. "The Angels gave you fake memories, but they're actually more like fragments, and I doubt you'd be able to recall any specific details of that time."

"That's ridiculous," Clary said, pulling her hand away and getting up, ready to send him on his way. "I remember everything. I've been in school, I've been painting," she started babbling until he cut her off.

"I can prove it, Clary," Jace told her. He had been hoping he wouldn't have to bring it up but knew that it was probably the only thing that would convince her that he was telling the truth.

"Fine," she said, folding her arms across her chest in defiance. "Then, prove it to me, Jace."

"Where's your mom, Clary?" He asked and instantly regretted the pain he knew he was causing her as he watched the air rush out of her and the fire left her expression as her entire face went white with grief.

She took a shaky breath after a few moments. "My mom is _dead_," Clary said, her voice hoarse with unshed tears as she looked at him, anger igniting in her eyes.

"I know," he told her softly. "I want you to tell me how she died."

Her emerald eyes blazed with molten anger as she glared at him. "How dare you."

"How _dare_ you!" Clary said again, her voice rising to a shout, knowing the only thing that kept her on her feet was the sudden rage coursing through her veins at having her mother's death brought up, bringing the storm of grief rushing back.

"I'm sorry," Jace apologised and she could tell that he meant it. "I am so sorry, but you need to remember who you are, Clary. So, please, tell me how Jocelyn died."

Clary shook her head in refusal. "I don't have to prove anything to you."

"How did she die, Clary?" Jace prodded again.

Clary steeled herself against the question, shaking her head stubbornly. She didn't want to relive all that pain again. She didn't want to remember that day ever again, the day that her mom had died.

"Oh, my God," she gasped after several minutes, her voice trembling as she realised he was right. She couldn't recall the details of that day. She knew her mother was dead; she knew it in her bones but the day that she died was completely blank.

Jace sat down beside her, taking her hand in his again, interlacing their fingers in an attempt to soothe her. "You can't tell me how she died, can you?"

Tears filled her eyes once again. "No," she said, choking on a sob. "Why? Why can't I?"

"Because the Angels made you forget it," Jace told her.

She looked up at him. "Tell me," she said, her voice pleading. "Please, tell me. I need to know."

Jace was about to promise to tell her everything when the hair on the back of his neck rose in warning. He stood up, feeling the atmosphere in the apartment shift.

Clary looked up at his sudden change in position in confusion. "What is it, Jace?" she asked.

"I don't know, but something isn't right," he explained, looking around, focusing on every detail of the room they were in. "I don't think we're alone."

"I locked the door," Clary said, trying to reassure him that there was no way someone could have broken in. Jace chuckled at her.

"Demons don't use doors, Clary." Her eyes widened in fear. "It's going to be okay. Just get behind me and stay close." She stood immediately. She positioned herself behind him and noticed some kind of dagger sheathed in a holster at his back. She reached out and grabbed it, her grip tightening around it almost instinctively.

"What are you doing?" Jace asked, noticing her holding the seraph dagger in her hand and coming around to stand beside him.

"You said I'm a Shadowhunter," she said.

"You _are_, but," he replied. He was about to remind her that she didn't remember anything about being a Shadowhunter which meant she didn't remember her training and an untrained Shadowhunter was dangerous until he heard the loud screech. "Crap."

And then the slimy, black demon jumped from its place on the ceiling right above them.


End file.
